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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24766831">(Let Me) Cover Your Eyes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepless_in_Starbucks/pseuds/Sleepless_in_Starbucks'>Sleepless_in_Starbucks</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(none actually happens), Alternate Universe - Magic, Arranged Marriage, Gen, Genderfluid Sleep | Remy Sanders, Mentioned (Past) Starvation, Misgendering, Nonbinary Logic | Logan Sanders, Referenced Noncon/Dubcon Kissing, Referenced Possible Future Noncon/Dubcon Sex, Sensory Overload, basically being treated like a slave, one instance of self-harm, some accidental; some purposeful but for good reason</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:20:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,500</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24766831</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepless_in_Starbucks/pseuds/Sleepless_in_Starbucks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Remy’s a queen, but that doesn’t mean they get any rights.<br/>Logan’s not even a noble, but that doesn’t mean ay can’t do something.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Logic | Logan Sanders &amp; Sleep | Remy Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>71</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>(Let Me) Cover Your Eyes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>If you asked anyone who knew her how Remy felt about parties, you would get the same answer from all of them: she loved them. She wore the most exquisite gowns and the most beautiful jewels to them, face made up in bright colours that highlighted her ever-present smile, mingling and laughing with all who attended. They were one of her greatest joys.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of these people would be wrong. And this would be because they weren’t describing Remy- they were describing Maria.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remy hated parties. The outfits she wore to them were too tight and difficult to move in, the jewelry paired with them clunky and not flattering to her. She wore so much make-up it felt as if breathing too hard would mess it up, and she felt suffocated beneath the smiles she couldn’t drop as she forced herself to interact with the masses. They were awful, and they made her feel awful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that didn’t stop them from occurring twice a month, and that didn’t stop Remy from having to go to them, always dolled up to the point you could barely tell she was anything more than a statue of perfect pose and restrained emotion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s all she was, after all. Marriage may have deemed her a queen, but birth had deemed her a doll to be controlled and admired by others, and birth always won out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So when the king (her husband, she could have said, but they both knew that wasn’t the purpose of their marriage, so there wasn’t really any reason to pretend otherwise) reminded her of the ball that evening and told her to get ready, she did. Even if her skin crawled and she wished she could do anything else, she did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her casual clothes were swapped out for a dark green ball gown that was much too tight around her stomach and much too loose everywhere else. She was adorned in heavy gold jewelry from head to toe, and her face was painted white and detailed like a mask of glittering emeralds and sapphires. And for the final touch, her sunglasses were taken from her and replaced with the reminder to smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look beautiful.” The king commented as Remy once more joined him. He was barely changed from earlier, his robes straightened a bit and little else. He wasn’t the one who was going to be on display.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” Remy said, but the response was hollow. The king’s words had been no compliment, simply a satisfied remark that his showpiece was prepared for the evening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the king’s prompting, Remy slipped her arm in his, wishing this gown had been one of the ones that came with gloves. The party would be hell on her senses no matter what, but the little things did help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But, Remy supposed, she was already lucky enough she was a woman at the moment. Sure, she’d feel like hell and still be forced to act as if she was in heaven, but at least she wouldn’t be misgendered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Little things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The party had gone downhill for Remy at about the same rate as always; aka, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really fucking fast.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The lights were too bright on their own, traditional candles covering practically every inch of the walls while the chandeliers above were lit up by crystallized sunlight, all of it made worse by the hundreds of gems that reflected the light even more throughout the room. The colours of outfit amongst the partygoers were violent clashes of manageable darks and painfully bright neons. Chinking glasses and overlapping conversations echoed in the large ballroom. Everything was too much, and to top it all off Remy’s gender had shifted again, the pesky thing, and now every addressal of ‘my queen’ made them feel sick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that you could have guessed any of that, looking at Remy. They were used to it, after all. Used to everything being so much it made it hard to talk or think or breathe, used to feeling as if their skin was buzzing with the amount of hands they were shaking, used to smiling through it all as if they were enjoying themself and not crumbling piece by piece, only to be put back together again just in time for the next party.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It would be easy if it didn’t hurt so much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barely an hour into the party and Remy was ready to find a corner and press themself into it until they simply didn’t exist anymore. Every minute afterwards only got worse, and were it not for the eyes of the guards at every door and corner constantly on them Remy would’ve just left and faced the consequences later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And of course, because Remy was already having such a </span>
  <em>
    <span>wonderful</span>
  </em>
  <span> evening, things went from bad to utterly terrible in the space of a few too-fast heartbeats.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The most recent noble Remy had struck up conversation with had been charming, in a good way. They hadn’t tried to shake Remy’s hand, something Remy was immensely grateful for, and they kept their attention towards the crowd around them as they chatted, not staring uncomfortably at Remy’s face like everyone else did. Remy wouldn’t say they were happy talking to them, but it was certainly the best interaction they had had that evening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then they asked Remy to stay put while they spoke to the king, and everything was right back to being horrible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remy wasn’t surprised when the noble returned to lead them outside, out onto the low balcony set in the back of the palace. It was a lovely night, after all, temperate and cloudless, and going to a bedroom would’ve been pointless anyways. It was still a few months before their first year with the king was up, and tradition was tradition, even if the king was much too preoccupied with peace treaties and border shifts to pay Remy any ‘attention.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stepped out onto the balcony before the noble, taking in a breath of the cool air while they waited for the noble to close the door and make their move. Remy wasn’t sure what to expect, only knowing that the most seemingly charming nobles were the worst in this regard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon enough, they were in front of Remy, for the first time that evening looking them in their eyes. Remy wasn’t surprised. They were gorgeous, after all, the whole spectrum of colour twisting and turning in their irises, never stopping. Remy had expected them to look eventually. That was why they were on display.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lost in their thoughts, Remy didn’t notice that the noble was offering them something until they spoke up, their tone clear and the slightest bit concerned, “Here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remy thought they were directing them in some manner. Instead, their hand was out, palm up, offering Remy…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sunglasses?” Remy said, confused. They weren’t supposed to cover their eyes at parties, for the express purpose of ensuring all the guests could see them. It was practically etiquette for beings like them. “The king won’t allow it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He can’t see you right now.” The noble pointed out evenly, as if they were simply stating a fact. When Remy didn’t respond to that, they added, “You’re uncomfortable. These will help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Part of Remy was still untrusting of the noble’s offer. It was too likely this was simply a trap, some sort of twisted test to see if Remy would respond properly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Remy really did want to put the sunglasses on, to once more quiet the world, consequences be damned. Plus, there was something… unplaceable about this noble. Remy was loath to call them trustworthy, but they didn’t inspire distrust nearly as much as anyone else Remy was forced to know, and that meant something to Remy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So they accepted the sunglasses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Immediately after putting them on, Remy could feel their senses quieting, the new muted, dark appearance to the world around them convincing some primal part of their brain that they no longer needed to be on full alert. Remy’s dulled senses were roughly on par with a human’s full-alert ones, something that made the human world </span>
  <em>
    <span>much</span>
  </em>
  <span> easier to bear. Their skin was still crawling, too much touch not something that could just be blocked out at a moment’s notice, but that was alright with Remy. Something was better than nothing. They didn’t need everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The noble, however, didn’t seem as satisfied. They were frowning, head tilted as they looked at Remy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re still uncomfortable.” They observed, which Remy supposed wasn’t too surprising. They were good at acting okay, but it wasn’t a waterproof facade. Just good enough so that nobles who didn’t care weren’t forced to feel uncomfortable due to Remy’s own discomfort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine.” Remy lied, trying to maintain the facade, as always. “Now, are you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before they could finish their sentence, Remy was stopped by the noble shrugging off their dark blue and silver embroidered jacket, leaving them in a matching tie and black button-up as they offered the jacket to Remy. “Here. The pressure should help with your crawling skin, so long as the fabric doesn’t upset you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now that? That was odd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you know my skin was crawling?” Remy asked as they accepted the jacket. They had been given ‘favors’ before, so there was no danger in wearing the noble’s. There might’ve been a time when there was, but Remy had been careful to insure otherwise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m an empath.” The noble answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remy nodded, now only slightly confused. While being an empath did answer their original question, it also proposed a new one: what were they doing here? Empaths were not considered of high social standing, but instead as workers, made to help lift others up and be crushed under foot if they weren’t careful. The only way an empath would be at one of the king’s parties was if they were rich beyond good reason, and Remy found those types were never charming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trying to put their confusion out of mind, Remy pulled on the jacket, feeling relieved almost immediately. The jacket was heavy, but not tight or restricting, and the material of it felt nice against their skin. Though there was still the lingering feel of everyone who had touched them in the last hour, it was mostly gone, blocked out by the jacket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re comfortable now. Good.” The noble observed, and Remy felt their heart rate spike, even if only for a moment. So that was their angle. Comfortable. At least it was classy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose I am.” Remy responded, as neutrally as possible. Of course the empath would want them to be comfortable, wouldn’t want to sense any negative emotions from Remy. And if Remy had any chance of making sure they didn’t have to deal with any of said emotions, they’d have to start working on blocking them out now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The noble nodded, and Remy was ready, ready for them to make their move, to step forward or grab Remy’s hips or angle their chin or-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“May we talk?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once more, Remy found their thoughts slamming to a stop, the change in course sudden and completely unpredictable. Talk? Why would the noble want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>talk</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re confused.” The noble pointed out unhelpfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I- Why aren’t you kissing me?” Remy blurted out before they could stop themself. They knew it was rude, and in horrible form, and if the king was anywhere nearby he’d be having a fit, but for the moment Remy didn’t care. They could only hold off sickening anticipation for so long, and they just wanted this over and done with as soon as possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In response, the noble blinked at Remy. Once. Twice. Coughed, adjusted their glasses, looked away a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Apologies.” They said, sounding awkward. “It appears I failed to properly explain the situation to you when I first left you to find the king. I have no desire to kiss you, I merely wish to talk to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not why people normally bring me out onto the balcony.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The noble ran a hand through their long dark hair, the quick, unthinking action giving Remy the impression it was a nervous habit. “And that is part of the reason I am here. But I assure you, I only want to converse. Nothing else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...It’s your money.” Remy finally said, the noble’s uncomfortableness with the whole thing convincing them that they spoke the truth. The noble simply nodded, looking relieved that that conversation was over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is best we speak outside of sight of possibly prying eyes.” They said, gesturing towards one of the balcony’s corners that meant the wall of the palace. Only in pressing their faces to the glass would anyone be able to see them there. Remy made no complaint, allowing themself to be pulled over to the corner, trying to ignore how many times they had been pushed into it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once they were situated there, the noble standing directly in the corner and Remy in front of them with more personal space than they normally got out here but also not nearly enough, the empath spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do not think I remembered to introduce myself earlier- I am Logan, ay-em-air pronouns, empath.” Logan told Remy, only sparking their confusion as to what ay was doing at a party for nobles even more. The breaking of the gender binary was considered informal, improper, and a peasant thing to do. All nobles were cis, or at least acted as if they were. Logan being open with air identity was just another strike against em being a proper noble, much less one invited to balls. So why was ay here?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“May I ask your name and pronouns?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remy frowned. “I’m Maria, the queen, I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t lie to an empath. Not easily, anyways.” Logan corrected, offering Remy a small smile. “Even without my magic, it’s easy to tell you weren’t at ease when the others addressed you by such terms. While I understand your inability to correct them, I assure you, you will face no consequences for being honest to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Logan’s ability to seem trustworthy despite giving Remy very little concrete reason to trust em was beginning to become annoying. But it still won out in the end, and Remy found themself quietly admitting, “I prefer to go by Remy. They-them works for now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright then, Remy,” Logan began, prompting a brief small smile from Remy, “I have a question for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to leave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remy tilted their head to the side, confused. “Leave where?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here. The palace.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Surely you know I can’t do that, babe.” Remy said, biting down on their tongue </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard</span>
  </em>
  <span> the moment the sentence was out of their mouth. Petnames weren’t proper, they weren’t noble, and they weren’t used by royals. The king hated hearing them, and was always quick to use Remy’s slip-up as a chance to remind them they were queen by title only, that there was no royalty in their blood and never would be. The verbal reminder was easy enough to block out and ignore, but the days without food? Not so much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remy swallowed before continuing, trying to clean their mouth of the fresh taste of blood. “Only the king can take me off the grounds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what I asked.” Logan replied evenly. “I asked if </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I do.” Remy said, quickly glancing back to check no one was trying to approach them, turning back towards Logan when they didn’t see anything or anyone. “But that doesn’t exactly matter. Want to or not, I have to stay in the palace.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to.” Logan corrected. “I can help you escape. You can leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No offense, su- Logan, but you and what army?” Remy asked, vaguely gesturing behind Logan. “The walls surrounding the palace are enchanted, there are four guards stationed at the gate and dozens more all across the grounds, and if I’m absent too long I will be sought out. I can’t just leave because you’re escorting me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Logan didn’t respond to that immediately, instead looking past Remy for a moment, likely at the doors to the balcony. After a moment, ay gave air attention back to Remy as ay spoke. “I understand your desire to have more concrete facts and reasonings behind what I say, but I do not have the time to answer all your questions now. I can get you out of here, but you have to trust me, and we must leave now, before we’re out of time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remy bit their lip, hesitating. “If I’m caught…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You won’t be.” Logan assured them. “But as I said, you have to trust me, and we must leave now. Do you want to be free again, Remy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The question was more than just whether or not Remy wanted to be free, they knew. It wasn’t asking if Remy wanted to be free in a vacuum, asking whether or not they preferred freedom to what was more or less enslavement. It was asking if they were willing to take a risk for freedom, if they were willing to be free at a cost, if they were willing to take their chances at freedom despite the danger. It was asking if they were willing to trust Logan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They shouldn’t have been. No one could be trusted, not anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Remy answered, letting out a shaky breath as they wrapped their arms around themself. Logan’s jacket pressing closer against their skin, reassuring Remy, if only a bit. “I’ll trust you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hint of a smile flickered over Logan’s face. “Good.” Ay said, before proceeding to flip emself over the balcony railing without even glancing back first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remy knew ay was probably fine, the drop not being a large one, and Logan clearly being prepared for the move, but it was still sudden enough to shock Remy into pushing themself against the balcony railing, making sure ay really was okay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ay was- at least, Remy was fairly certain an injured person wouldn’t be so focused on adjusting air tie. Ay flattened it down against air chest before ay looked up at Remy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your turn.” Ay called up, only as loud as ay needed to be. Ay also opened up air arms, clearly planning to catch Remy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remy just scoffed to themself and jumped to the side of em, landing firmly on the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Logan looked mildly impressed, raising an eyebrow at Remy. Remy shrugged. “I’m not completely helpless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never said you were.” Logan defended, though air expression was odd in a way Remy couldn’t place. Ay only allowed for a moment of staring, however, before ay turned from Remy. “This way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, ay set off across the expansive palace yard, Remy following close behind em. They were on high alert, constantly waiting to spot one of the many wandering guards who patrolled the estate day and night, but to their surprise, none seemed to be around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon enough, the two of them came to the path that connected the gate to the palace, made of glistening white pebbles and smooth marble. Remy expected Logan to lead them over the path and back into the yard, where ay would soon enough lead them to a hole in the wall or something similar. What Remy hadn’t expected, however, was for Logan to stop </span>
  <em>
    <span>on</span>
  </em>
  <span> the path and begin heading </span>
  <em>
    <span>towards</span>
  </em>
  <span> the gate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remy grabbed air arm before ay could make it far, hissing under their breath, “What are you doing?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In response, Logan offered Remy a small smile, carefully looped their arms together so as that ay wasn’t too close or touching them too much, and once more moved forward, murmuring, “Trust me,” under air breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only against every logical bone in their body did Remy do so, trying to focus on not falling over as Logan led them forwards, closer and closer to what Remy was certain would be the doom and ruin of this plan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as they were close enough to be recognized, the two guards stationed on the inside of the gate drew their swords, pointing them at Logan and Remy, and Remy was fairly certain their heart rate had never been higher than in that moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The queen doesn’t leave the palace grounds.” One of the guards said, as if there was some way Logan could be unaware of the fact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Return to the party.” The other added, brandishing their blade just a touch to reinforce the point. “Unless you’d like things to get messy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once again, Remy expected Logan to respond with some sort of attack, via a blade hidden in air boot or something of the like.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once again, Remy expected the wrong thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because instead of attempting to fight the guards, or even to just turn around and head back to the party, Logan simply smiled and said in a voice that didn’t sound entirely like air own, “The king has instructed me to take the lovely queen Maria out, for reasons of his own. Would you stand against the will of the king?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the guards lowered their sword as soon as Logan had finished speaking, looking abashed for having challenged em. They stepped back, indicating that they would allow the two of them to pass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other guard hesitated for a moment, sword lowering, but they didn’t step back. “The king’s never done anything like this before. Do you have any proof of your claims?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You challenge the king’s wishes?” Logan replied, which Remy thought was a horribly suspicious answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other guard seemingly didn’t agree, however, looking away from Logan as they sheathed their sword and stepped back. “My apologies, my liege.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Logan curtly nodded once at the guard before moving forwards, having to tug a bit on Remy’s arm to get them to move as well. The guards made no move to ambush them or question them as they passed through the gate, simply remaining to the side, looking away from Logan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you do that?” Remy whispered to Logan as they passed under the archway of the gate, for a moment left alone in near-darkness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ask me later.” Was Logan’s only response, and a moment later they were on the other side of the gate and the wall, officially outside of the palace. It was nothing much to look at, simply a round parking lot lined with cars and carriages of varying aesthetics, the road leading back towards the rest of society, trees to the left and water to the right, but it was still breathtaking to Remy. The last time they had been outside the castle walls had been nearly a year ago, and the same walls tended to grow boring fast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! Is that the queen?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, right. The second set of guards. Well, freedom had been sweet while it lasted, at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Logan didn’t seem nearly as ready to fold, however, looking between the two new guards and the two new swords being pointed at em as if ay was looking at old friends and balloons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is indeed. The king has requested she be taken outside of the palace, for purposes of her safety.” Logan said, voice smooth and almost honey-like, drawing the guards in and making Remy feel as if everything about the situation was just a bit too sweet tasting. “He wishes all guards to be relocated within the palace walls until the issue has been addressed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as with the first guard from before, these guards seemed over-eager to do as Logan had asked, nodding at em as they hurried past the two of them and inside the king’s estate. Remy turned to watch them go, and that’s when it clicked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re an illusionist.” Remy said, turning back to look at Logan, eyes wide behind their sunglasses. “I thought you said you were-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m both.” Logan answered prematurely, letting go of Remy’s arms and stepping within the circle of parked vehicles. “Pick one of these for me, would you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remy gave a distracted look around before pointing at one of the carriages, one with a framework of gold and crimson red silk wrapped around it. “I didn’t think it was possible to be an empath and an illusionist.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is possible.” Logan responded vaguely as ay moved towards the carriage Remy had pointed out, checking inside of it quickly before moving to stand at the back side of it. “Care to assist me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With what?” Remy inquired even as they came to stand beside Logan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re going to push this into the ocean.” Logan said, gesturing air head in the direction of the water. “The ground here is packed down hard enough it won’t leave enough tracks for anyone to see. Seeing the missing carriage, the king and his guards will assume we left for the town in it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where will we actually be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In the forest, on the trail to a place I know you will be safe.” Logan explained as ay put air hands on the back of the carriage. “Could you kick out the block of wood, right up there, in front of the back wheel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remy did so, and the carriage lurched forwards almost immediately, albeit in the wrong direction. They moved to join Logan at the back, helping to push it in the right direction as much as they could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took longer than Remy would’ve liked, but soon enough they were at the edge, and the carriage was over it, smashed against the jutting side of the cliff before being swallowed by the waves below. They remained there for a moment, Remy enjoying the feel of sea spray and the smell of the ocean while Logan caught air breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How can you exist?” Remy asked after a few minutes, still watching the crashing and foaming waves as they spoke. “Empaths and illusionists are opposite classes of the same magic. You can’t be both.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s just something cowards say.” Logan responded, but neither the tone nor the phrasing sat right with Remy. They glanced over, catching Logan’s gaze, and ay sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve accepted the consequences of my choices. There’s no point in wondering after things that are already set in figurative stone.” Ay said, not leaving any room for follow-up questions. “The sooner we leave, the less likely it is they will catch us. Are you ready to leave, Remy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remy glanced back at the palace, at the harsh stone walls that had imprisoned them, at the tops of the towers they used to wander pointlessly for hours with nothing to do, at the bright lights that had only ever given them horrible headaches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve wanted to leave that place even before I was in it.” Remy answered, turning away from it to look at Logan. “Let’s go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Logan nodded before turning away from the ocean, leading Remy in the opposite direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And with the palace, and everyone and everything within it, behind them, Remy and Logan disappeared into the forest.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>if you've got any questions about this fic, come hit me up on tumblr at @sleepless-in-starbucks</p></blockquote></div></div>
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